


A Song in the Valley

by booktick



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attraction, First Dates, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Implied Relationships, M/M, POV Elim Garak, Pre-Relationship, Suggestive Themes, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-10 21:15:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18415985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booktick/pseuds/booktick
Summary: Perhaps he would bring Romulan Ale.





	1. Horizon's Valor

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own none of this franchise.

* * *

The lights were not too bright on the space station today. A rarity, Garak would think, if it had not been for the recent electrical disturbances throughout the space station as of late. It did little to disturb his work, in fact, he was able to continue with business as usual. Though, he wondered, if Julian Bashir could say the same. A doctor of his standards must be in great need of visibility no doubt. Perhaps that had caused some sort of stress, some tension in those reserved shoulders that the doctor wore so well.  
  
As he was gradually becoming more and more lost in his thoughts, Garak barely noticed the shadow that approached. His fingers had been busy with fabric, cutting where it was needed and eyes zeroed in on the material. It was the clearing of a throat that finally had him lift his head, eyes round and alert as always. A smile, which reached his eyes, grew upon his lips. He placed the scissors aside, stepping back from his current assignment and moved towards his next: _Dr. Julian Bashir_.  
  
The youthful face of Starfleet's best, accompanied with starlit eyes. One could marvel at the sight, Garak had on more than one occasion. Julian had barely taken two steps forward and already the air in the room seemed almost tolerable. Garak would never admit such things outloud of course. Not that the circumstances would ever require him to divulge such information to begin with. Well, unless Julian required some sort of encouragement on a rainy day. Then again, a few extra details, a little exaggeration and he might be able to convince Julian to do more than have their weekly lunch get together.  
  
Nevertheless, he greeted Julian, "Doctor," Garak did nothing to hide his pleasure, "How wonderful it is to see you. I do hope I can be of some assistance?"  
  
"Hello, Garak," Julian glanced towards the material Garak had been working on, "A project or...?" There was a slight lax in the doctor's smile, perhaps concern he had interrupted a project or perhaps it was due to something less admirable.  
  
To be a fly in Dr. Bashir's private quarters...  
  
" _Ah_ ," Garak finally tore his gaze from Bashir to look back at the fabric, "Do you like the material? It was a special order, placed for a client of mine." And like always, he found his eyes crawling back towards Bashir, "I could always make you something similar. If that was what you _wished_."  
  
"No, no. I was merely admiring." Julian smiled back after another deep breath, "Um." The doctor ran fingers through his hair, as if unsure of what to do with those hands of his.  
  
Garak watched all the while. How could he not? Bashir was typically on edge no matter what he was doing or attempting to do, say, all of the above. He had known a similar feeling himself. Of always thinking about his actions before he acted. However, that was where their behavioral similarities came to a sudden and complete halt, where Julian found himself knee deep in truth and righteousness, Garak could not find a path for either. He spoke so often yet it all tasted so flat upon his tongue, biting off the ends of his words before they fell completely out of his mouth to begin with. What it must be like...to be Julian Bashir.  
  
"And I was wondering if that'd be too forward of me?" Julian asked.  
  
Garak blinked. And blinked again.  
  
There must have been a question asked though Garak couldn't recall at the moment. He had been far too curious about potential rather than what was right before him. Though potential could be twice as fun in the correct circumstances. Julian seemed to fit into a far more... _grey_ area. The potential there could go either way, especially if Garak were involved.  
  
"I beg your pardon? My mind was elsewhere," Garak explained, "My apologies, Dr. Bashir."  
  
"I asked if you were free for dinner." Julian repeated, same hushed tones as before he could presume.  
  
His eyes wandered briefly as Julian's had, towards the entrance of Garak's shop. As if prying eyes and ears may have caught wind of their current interaction. Unlike Garak, when Julian looked away from the shop's entrance, the doctor did not meet his gaze. Instead, Julian seemed to find something far more interesting in his hands it would seem--which were quite busy, fingers sliding over the others and rubbing at his knuckles. The silence to Julian's request must have him positively charged inside. Dare he even think Julian was flustered at the mere idea of dinner with the tailor? Or more so at the idea that someone may have overheard the proposal as well?  
  
How _charming_.  
  
It was another moment before he let Julian off the hook. "Of course." Garak finally replied.  
  
There was a change in the room as soon as he said it. It would be far more awkward if Bashir hadn't noticed it as Garak had. The tailor watched the doctor, eyes trailing over his jaw, lips and... _oh_. It would seem that Bashir _had_ noticed the change after all. That would certainly prove to be interesting come the time for their dinner. Garak raised his eyebrows as the silence grew longer, much heavier, and he patiently waited for the doctor to find his voice again.  
  
The doctor lifted his head, eyes widened a fraction but his smile had returned "Really? I mean...Well." Julian let his hands fall back to his sides, "Terrific then. Shall we schedule for Friday?"  
  
He nodded once, "Friday it is." Garak agreed.  
  
Julian gave one last nod before he stepped away from the tailor and turned from him. Garak couldn't help but let his own gaze fall over the younger man's backside, if only for a breath or more. His eyes went back up as Julian turned in the entrance to give one last wave and was gone. He let himself stand there, staring where he had last seen Julian before he returned to his work. Scissors resumed their cutting of the fabric but the grin Garak wore was far brighter than the fabric.  
  
Dinner on Friday, with Dr. Julian Bashir. How interesting. He would have to make sure to be on his best behavior...at least until food was served. He wondered if Julian intended for their exchange to be public or behind closed doors, much like most of their more personal conversations of the late. Not that Garak much cared for dinner at all, food was food after all. On more than one occasion, Julian Bashir had proven to be an amusing distraction from the rest of the space station. No doubt Garak would certainly enjoy himself quite a bit having dinner with the doctor.   
  
Perhaps he would bring Romulan Ale.

 


	2. The Sweetest Stones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have no idea how Quark or a space station works--yet, here we are. I do hope it still feels IC????

* * *

It had grown closer to the day that the Doctor and the Tailor were expected to have their dinner, when Garak had gone searching for his item of need. He figured that there must have been some brave soul on the space station willing to part with their ale. He was unsure if Julian had tasted the drink before, however, if anything, Garak was happy to share an experience with him.

After a few turned backs and scoffs in his general direction, he took to those who he found...less predictable. As he stood in front of the figure who called himself bartender, he debated his most recent actions. There would always be other gifts he could bring to their get together, Julian would probably be pleased with his simple presence. Deep in thought, he listened to Quark ramble on about his excellent collection of romulan ale.

"And then I got this one from a friend in high places after he owed me one," Quark leaned in, holding the bottle in his hands, "You would know about _that_."

"I'm sure." Garak didn't bother trying to think of something clever in retort, "Is that the...last of them?" One could be hopeful after all.

The bartender quickly moved back a step, placed the bottle with the rest. He must have had eighty bottles. Garak wondered if anyone else was aware of this collection, though knowing Quark, there must have been. With a slip of his hand into his pocket he pulled out a small card, a simple one, in fact, if one was not terribly nosy it would be easily mistaken for nothing but that. A card.

However, it was a way for Quark to...gain another alliance and prosper in his trading--judging from that collection, it would not be difficult for Quark to make an pleasurable exchange with whomever was in need for the ale. Garak could only be glad he was the one who had procured the card for Quark, the very thought of having to actually put some effort in an exchange with Quark of all people did not help the nerves. But it was the least he could do for the poor man, a little fun in the abyss perhaps.

That sounded... _almost_ good.

"So," Oh no, "Dinner with _the Doctor_ , huh?" Quark elbowed him in the side, a far too pleased grin on his face.

"Yes." Garak lowered his eyes to the bottle of ale Quark had picked up, "Now. The ale-"

"And he asked  _you_?"

This was proving taxing. " _Yes_." He pulled the card back just as Quark reached with his other hand.

That course of action seemed to surprise the bartender, as the Romulan ale Quark held was pulled back in a similar manner.

" _Garak_ ," a gasp for exaggeration, "So suspicious already? And here I am obtaining  _my best friend_  something for his _date_." The Romulan ale was pressed to Quark's chest, and with that insufferable open, coy expression upon the bartender's face. This was not exactly an image Garak wanted anyone to walk in on, as if they were sparring partners in another feud.

And it was _hardly_ a date.

Garak let out a soft breath, a  _possible_  sigh, a  _possible_  scoff, but, in the end, who could tell really, "The bottle first. If you wouldn't mind? I do like to make sure my investment is worth the while." There was far more bite at the end of his words than he had meant for, "I'm _sure_ you understand."

Their eyes met for what was an uncomfortable bit of silence before Quark thrust the bottle forward. Garak's own smile had returned, and he bowed his head once as he took the ale. He looked down at it, as he turned it some. It did look...near without fault. This must have done some traveling across the stars, a few scratches at the bottom though it would go unnoticed by the time it was finished. He lifted his head, and saw how quickly that smile on Quark's face had gone from pleased to sheepish. His own grin, however, _never_ faltered.

"I thank you," Garak handed the card over, "I do not know what I would do without you, Quark. You are an asset to the federation truly." That was _almost_ a compliment.

The card was snatched quickly and a step away was taken for good measure. Quark looked down at the card he held in both hands, turned it over and even smelled it. Garak was unsure if one could verify such an item by sense of smell though he had had seen far stranger occurrences in his time at the space station. He held the bottle in his own hands, in the same protective manner Quark had, well, perhaps less possessively. A bottle of ale was one thing but that card could not be replaced, at least for Quark anyway. How many people on this space station had a Cardassian as their friend?

And they were friends. Allies was a term Garak preferred, however, one must make do when in need. He could already see the gears turning behind Quark's eyes, the glance at the card now in his possession, thumbs sliding along it as if it might simply fade away. As skilled as Garak was, he and Quark both knew a fake when they saw it. The holodeck could prove useful but the real thing is much better in certain circumstances. Like the one they were in now, this would only strengthen their mutual alliance with one another. Garak kept his eyes zeroed in on the bartender as Quark averted his own for a breath, and fingers tapped along the card for a few more.

As if a switch had been flipped, Quark found his voice again. "Yes, well," The bartender mumbled, glancing up at Garak, "No one can say Quark was anything but the best procurer for all." The card was quickly slipped out of view once Quark took a step or two away from him, a sign that their mutual exchange was at an end for the day.

That much could certainly be said... _for now_.

A soft noise left the Cardassian, it could be mistaken for a laugh. He had been previously incorrect, it did tend to happen every now and again. This had proven fruitful and entertaining. 

"It was a pleasure doing business with you," Garak turned away, his shoulders fell, any sign of previous tension had vanished. 

He could hear the hushed sigh from the bartender from over his shoulder. However, he held his head high as he walked away from Quark, "I do so look forward to our next interaction. I am sure it will be just as curious."

 


End file.
